Fetish-Tel
by FallenFeliadae
Summary: This idea has been in my head for sometime. Taking lesser used characters and putting them into fetish scenarios. I chose these four because I like them the most. Warning: Diapers, Gore, Crossdressing, Plushification
1. Chapter 1

Margaret shuffled through papers, looking specifically at the identifies of various furry characters. To be even more precise characters that could be used as fanart. Currently, Margaret was searching for possible female candidates. While searching, she rolls her eyes at some of her possible candidates, "Krystal…way too much! Minerva Mink… nope. HELL NO to any Pokémon or Digimon!"

After searching for another hour for potential female candidates, she had settled on one. She tossed into a stack, smirking as she found her fourth candidate. Margaret considered searching for more female characters, though chose against. One was enough for what she had planned. Earlier, she had found three male candidates that she absolutely loved. Two of which had close to no fanart, making them perfect subjects.

Now all that was left to do was gather them all here.

xxx

A gray and white cat snoozed on top of her dimwitted canine companion. The cat yawns and stretches outward. Opening her eyes, she noticed herself floating further and further above her friend. Looking up, the cat saw a portal leading to some possible alien species for experimentation.

"RUNT! HELP!" Rita calls. Unfortunately, her canine stayed sleep no matter how loudly she called out to him. In the end, she lets out a sigh of defeat. Once she was no longer in anyone's sight, Runt briefly woke up. Realizing his friend was no longer resting his back, he goes back to sleep.

She probably went to the little doggie's room or something.

xxx

A white dog closes the door as his family departs from the house. He forgot their reason for leaving, perhaps they were going on some adventure without him. Or perhaps, they were paid to leave the house for some undetermined period of time. Either way, he didn't care. All this newfound free time lead to begin working on a new novel.

"Alright _World Without Love and Suffering_, time for to us to take the literary world by storm!" he said. Reaching behind his back, he grabs his flask and takes a quick sip. Suddenly, he realizes that the booze he was drinking was absolutely phenomenal! The dog takes another sip, which led to another, then another, and so on and so forth. By the time he was done, Brian found himself sleeping with his laptop on the floor.

His laptop's screen shining brightly, along with the house shaking awoke him. Terrified, Brian holds onto the couch in a futile effort to keep steady.

"What the hell is going on?!" Brian exclaims. To his dismay, the Griffon's couch bucks him off, sending flying into his computer. He quickly closes his eyes, only to discover he didn't destroy his computer. Instead, he stuck head first into his laptop screen. His attempt to escape was ruined by a quick kick to the rear.

Brian's scream was the last thing heard as his laptop was closed. Closing it was Stewie, who ran his finger through a wad of cash.

"Alright now that he's gone, time for a sexy furry party!" Bursting through the door, a Renamon, a Gatomon, Krystal, Minerva Mink, and a few other furry women run into the house. The entire group and infant giggle as they chase each other around the living room.

xxx

A sheepdog proudly stood in defiance of a flock of crows. Normally, he'd have the assistance of friends in stopping the crows. However, they had gone off in search of some treasure. As the last line of defense, he wouldn't falter. He wouldn't waiver. Nor would he falter, he would protect this year's corn harvest from those crows.

Good intentions that, unfortunately, wouldn't be carried out.

Mocking his effort to be the hero, the crows soar towards him. Before the dog could attempt any type of self-defense, the crows had him in their talons. He struggled and squirmed in an effort to escape without realizing how high above the ground he was. After demanding them to release him numerous times, the crows look at each other maniacally.

Hovering over a nearby well gives them an idea. Mockingly, one of them muses, "The doggie seems a bit dirty, aye boys?"

"What? I just had a bath today!" The sheepdog corrects. Even still, this fell on death ears.

"I agree, what do you say boys? Give ole Duke a bath?" another crow proposes. Grinning at each other, they drop the sheepdog. He falls into the water with a loud splash, gasping for air the moment he could. Duke lets out a sigh. He failed and now the crows were off to take the corn for themselves. Perking his ears up, he felt a slight tug on his tail.

"What the-" The slight tug on his tail became an overwhelming weight, plunging him deeper into the water. Desperately, he tries to claw his way to the surface. Eventually, he took a large breath of air when he reached the surface. At least, that's what he would have wanted to happen.

In a cruel sense of reality, Duke had sunk deeper into the abyss that is this bottomless well.

xxx

Fu-Dog hummed a lovely tune to himself as he hops onto the couch. With Jake and the old man out of town, it left the Shar-Pei to the shop alone. Channel surfing, he took a sip of water. Instantly, he knew something was off. Although, he wouldn't be complaining about this disturbance.

His nose picked up the scent of a female in heat. Grinning to himself, he struts over to his potential lover with a proud in his chest. In the backroom, he nearly lost his composure.

"Well aren't you just the spawn of Aphrodite," Fu-Dog flirtatiously proclaims. The female was a black anthro poodle with her cuts being lighter than the rest of her fur. Leaning towards him, her unrealistically large breast juggle in a mesmeric fashion. A slow and tender lick to his face sends Fu falling on his back, fully erected.

Giggling, the poodle turns her body to show off her equally large rump. Fu sits up to see her moist, inviting, lips and juicy ass. She winks and blows a kiss to her potential mate. This sent the Shar-Pei over the top. Now he was, quite literally, floating towards to love in his eyes. Love that blinded from him what she pulled from underneath her stomach.

By the time he would realize what had happened, he was already snoozing. Lodged into his forehead, a small tranquilizer dart. The dosage would leave him unconscious for the next couple of hours. More than enough time for the poodle to do what she had been paid to do. With that in mind, she picks him up by the scruff of his neck and takes him to their next destination.

xxx

Rita, Duke, and Brian had each arrived at all the same time. Each landed in a separate chair, arm and leg restraint locks each of them in place. Sitting before them was a gray hippo in a golden pantsuit. She gave them all a sickeningly sweet smile. Glancing at the clock on her desk, she noted that one of her guests were late. Perhaps, she should've sent her feline cohort to get Fu-Dog.

She wouldn't have been late.

As if on cue, the door behind the guest trio kicks open. Fu is roughly thrown into his seat at by the black poodle. The hippo and poodle share a mutual glare. Fu shrinks in his seats while the other three scoot their chairs away in fear. The tension between the two rose to the point of sparks colliding between them. If any of them looked close enough, they would notice threads of the hippo's pantsuit moving slightly.

Fortunately, the pair ends this potential slugfest with a mutual nod.

"Jennifer, give Azalea my regards," the hippo requests. Jennifer shrugs, departing from the room.

"Whatever Margaret." The door closes with a loud bang. The four captives let out a sigh of relief. Relief that didn't last long after a chuckle from Margaret. She gets up, walking towards her 'guests'. With each step, threads on her pantsuit's right arm slither down to her desk. All the while, Margaret maintained a comforting and kind air around her.

"Questions?" All four of her captives open their mouths to respond. Standard questions of 'who are you' and 'why are we here' were raised. Although despite how dangerous the poodle might have been, Brian and Fu ask for her number. Margaret chuckles at them, taking hold of a remote her pantsuit threads retrieved.

"In no particular order, no you cannot have Jenny's number. My name is Margaret Shiron, it's pleasure to meet all of you. You're here because we need subjects for test runs. Cooperate and you'll be fine, otherwise, I'll make you cooperate and that the last thing you want," Margaret explains. Rita prepared to ask what sort of tests they'd be subjected, obviously, she didn't get the chance.

"Divine Cloth Wigar, Weapon Eight: Powder. Subcategory: Sleep." Threads from Margaret's floated to the face of each guest, exerts small doses of bright blue powder. The four captives became drowsy. Each of them resists to varying degree, Duke and Brian the first to sleep. The last thing Rita and Fu saw were a pair of mechanical hands taking hold of them.


	2. Rita

Rita yawns with a long stretch. The cat looks around to see that she still in the alleyway she initially fell asleep in. She was still sleeping on Runt's back, the dumb dog himself still sleeping. Smiling, she lets out a sigh of relief. Perhaps that entire thing had been a dream. That hippo, Margaret, if she remembered it correctly and those dogs from before. All of that had to have been a dream, right?

Lightly scratching her back, she walks out of the alleyway to look for food. She crashes into the front alleyway wall. Rubbing her face, Rita looks to the alleyway wall, "What the…"

The wall falls backwards along with three others to unveil she was in a nursery. Bright pink walls plastered with adorable with baby Looney Tunes characters now surrounded her. A complete tea party set next to a toy chest. A changing table and a dresser next to each other. Finally, a crib with a musical note mobile dandling.

Ears droop, she backups in shock until she trips over Runt. At that moment, something dawned on Rita: this Runt was a life-sized plushie. Before she could react, the plushie held her in a bear hug. The cat fought and ordered the plush mutt to let her go, commands that fell on death ears. A monitor next to the playpen came on, Margaret giggling at her captive.

"Well good morning little kitten," Margaret greets. Rita growls and spits at the monitor.

"Listen, you'd better let me out of this or-mmpgh?!" Rita's ultimatum is silenced by Plush-Runt popping a pacifier into her mouth. Straps from the pacifier tie themselves around her head, rendering her protests to muffled nonsense. Margaret chuckles while Rita continues to her muffled threats and demands.

"Like I told you and the dogs, your cooperation is not required. Appreciated but, not required. You're going to spend a day or two here. Afterwards, you and the others will be released. So be a good test subject, our research is very important." Margaret informs. The monitor shuts off, leaving Rita and her plush companion alone for the moment. Of course, it didn't take Rita long to figure what she'd be testing for them. This realization made Rita's ears flatten, spending her day as a baby wasn't how she thought her day would go.

Her plush companion drops her onto the changing table. Immediately, mechanical hands pin her arms and legs to the table. Plush-Runt searches the dresser for an outfit for his charge, whilst the hands gather supplies. Meanwhile, Rita's eyes dart around the nursery in search of an exit. Then all she needed would be a moment to escape.

_If I've learned anything from,_ her thoughts were interrupteded by a chill to her spine. A diaper was slid underneath her as a powderpuff powders her crotch area. Despite her muffled protests and threats, her diaper is taped to her waist. Staring at it, she noticed her legs were forced apart no matter how hard she fought to bring them together.

The hands on her arms and legs release her, staying stationary above her. Looking over, her plush caretaker returned with a familiar looking outfit. In one paw, a yellow dress with white ruffles that would probably cover half her diaper, if lucky. In the other, an adorable yellow bonnet. Recognizing the outfit to be the one that gorilla forced her into a while back, Rita adamantly shakes her head to protest.

Sensing their collective charge wouldn't willingly wear the outfit, the hands descend upon her. The hands cease when Rita raises her arms. Margaret had already proven she'd get her way. Perhaps, it would better to cooperate for the moment. At the very least, the diaper felt…snuggle and comfortable. The safe and secured feeling being padded possessed.

The mere thought of it left her purring with closed eyes. All the while, Plush-Runt is able to dress his charge with a smile. Rita's eyes burst open when her caretaker pats her head. Burning with blush, she stares at the ground.

_Keep it together. Make it through this and you'll get to go…home, _she thought. Her head shoots upward as she worries for the actual Runt. Without her, that mutt would probably get himself thrown in the pound. Or considering their luck, killed by a pack of sickos. She _had _to get back now! At the very least, she had to know that her friend was safe from harm.

_Don't worry about Runt. I'll keep him safe, _whispers a familiar voice. Strangely enough, Rita couldn't recall whom this voice belonged to. The only thing she knew for certain was that it was feminine. Even so, hearing it left her with a warm nostalgic yet bitter feeling. Regardless, Rita leaves Runt's fate to the voice.

The clicking sound of a high chair tray brought Rita back to reality. She flexes her sore jaw after her caretaker pulls out the pacifier. A mechanical hand drops a bowl of colorless mush in front of the cat. She eyes the strange food with skeptical eyes.

"You don't really expect me to eat that? I may look like a baby, doesn't mean I-" her sentence was cut off by Plush-Runt shoving a spoonful of mush into her mouth. Though colorless, it certainly didn't lack taste. Cartoonishly, Rita's eyes erupt in fireworks. Purring at the shockingly tasty mush, she opens her mouth for another spoonful. With each spoonful, a mechanical hand pets her while playing audio complimenting her for being a good kitten.

It wasn't long before it was all gone, the cat looking forlorn. This had been the first time she's gotten to eat something so delectable. At least not since…her first owner. Her original master who fed her all kinds of scrumptious treats and snacks. Of course, until she was, in their eyes…

"PLAYTIME!" The bowl is taken by a nearby hand, Plush-Runt removing Rita from the high chair. She latches onto him tightly, resisting the urge to cry. Regardless of her effort, tears roll down her cheek, the cat softly sobbing.

_I'm not dirty._ _I'm not ugly. _Rita shakes her head, wiping away potential tears. If Plush-Runt could speak, words akin to 'it's alright' or 'what's the matter baby' would come out its maw. So instead, Plush-Runt stops in its tracks, bouncing while patting it charge's back. Amidst her softening sobs, a light burp erupts from her mouth. In a nearly insulting way, the burp had lifted her prior sadness. Now, she laid limp in her caretaker's arms with a content smile.

Plush-Runt's grip loosens on her, standing Rita up in front of the toy chest. Standing was a bit awkward due to the diaper's thickness, yet she managed. Above the chest was a timer counting down from roughly an hour and a sign reading: 'Pick One Plushie'.

"Pick one plushie," Rita repeats to herself. Staring into the toy chest, she stares at the array of plushies. None stood out to her, yet she continued to look. Nearing the bottom, she took notice of a Brian plushie. Picking it up, she examines it closely. On it back there was a cord connected to a sting.

"SOMEBODY SAVE…me from being lonely. What's your name, little girl?" the plushie asks. Eyes widen, Rita drops it back into the chest. The color from Rita's face faded. If that was the actual Brian, what had become of the others? More importantly, was this a result of fighting back against the hippo's orders?

That thought alone was enough to choose Brian. If nothing else, he'd probably be safer with her than not. Having chosen her plushie, Plush-Runt carries her over the tea party set. The tea party went out about as one would expect. Plush-Runt forcing Rita to play as host, the cat acting vastly out of character for fear of plushification. Yet, her eyes never left Brian.

_Who the hell are we dealing with? _She thought. The timer eventually hits zero, a preschool bell ringing signaling the end. The seams keeping Plush-Runt's mouth closed undid themselves. A bright blue powder lightly sprinkles over Rita. She covers her mouth and nose, blocking the powder.

To remedy the problem, a hand yanks on Rita's tail. Yelping, she takes in quite a dosage of the powder. Not enough to outright put her to sleep; however, she was left in a lethargic state. Losing her balance, she falls into Plush-Rut's ready arms. Snuggling close to him, the nipple of a bottle enters her mouth. The cat drifts off to sleep, suckling away like the kitten she was dressed as.

xxx

In her office, Margaret went over the footage of her research subjects. All of which were leading to valuable data. Fu Dog and Duke were each in separate areas, bombarded with hypnotic colors. Fu Dog is receiving an enema, diapered just like Rita. Meanwhile, Duke, dressed in drag, is having tailhole being pummeled away by another dog.

"Jennifer and Xavier, how are the subjects in your care?" Margaret asks.

"So far nothing abnormal to report," Jennifer announces.

"Likewise," Xavier, a golden retriever, reports. Margaret gives a nod of approval. Even Brian's plushification had gone swimmingly. Yet, they had to stay observant. Sure, their research is of heavy importance to them. Nevertheless, the lives of the subjects were also important. They needed to ensure the certain safety of future clientele.

"Wonderful darlings! Take note and inform me of any changes." Margaret instructs. The duo and resume their work. She then turns her attention back to Rita. At this moment an idea popped into her head. A malicious grin begins to form on her face.

_Perhaps I should focus on memory and perception alteration. As well as group interaction._

xxx

Laying dormant as its charge slept, Plush-Runt reactivates. Having received Margaret's initial command, its paws on take on faint sparks. Standing over its charge, sparks flicker off its pawns onto Rita. Fortunately, the shocks caused no visible harm to her. After a minute of harmless shocks, Plush-Runt leaves the room with the Brian plushie.

An hour or so later, Rita awakes to find herself in the nursery, to her begrudgement. However, to her surprise, the actual Runt was here. In his paws, she was carrying her to a bounce. Happily, he remarks, "Nice to see you awake, yeah, defi-definitely nice to see you awake."

_Was it all a dream? That strange hippo and those dogs? _Rita wonders. The last memory that came to mind was being put down for a nap after playtime. The earliest memory of the day was Runt changing her out of her night diaper. Searching further back, she found no memory to contradiction it. Shrugging off the thought, Rita noticed a budging bag near the changing table.

Her eyes widen, and she visibly trembles at the mere sight of a bag. It was probably the size of a gallon or two, all of which was going inside of her. In a feeble protest, she shakes her head, complaining, "Oh come on! That's a little excessive, don't ya think?"

Runt ignores Rita's continued protests. He drops her onto the changing table. Expertly maneuvering around his squirmy charge, he secures her to the table. Even still, Rita fights against her impending fate. The enema nozzle is carefully and slowly lubed up before her eyes. Knowing it to be useless, she lets out one last plea.

"Runt please…" Rita trails off. Her diaper is lowered and the enema nozzle shoved inside her. Rita lets out an, admittedly, adorable squeal. Initially, the fluid flowed quite smoothly. Perhaps, this wouldn't be so bad.

She couldn't have been more wrong in her entire existence.

Rita grips the table as hard as she could. It wasn't even a full ten seconds and she'd never felt so full. Water sloshing around in her while her stomach inflates. Rita's body trembles and her asshole quivered. Her breathing became fanatic, enough that Runt felt the need to cease his actions.

Eventually, the flow of water became slower and slower. Craning her neck upward, she saw her tight stomach bulging with enema fluid. Her efforts to expel it were extinguished with a butt-plug swiftly shoved in place of the nozzle. Unable to expel the enema, her stomachs gurgles. Tears roll down her cheeks, shortly turning into actual sobs.

"Don't cry, Rita. Defi-defi-definitely don't cry. If you wanna go potty real bad then go potty," Runt raises his paws high in the air. His charge whimpers, instantly realizing his objective. Rita grits her teeth and simply accepts her fate. Not like she had a choice anyway.

Runt's paw slams on her stomach. The plug holding back the enema might as well not have existed. Akin to a dam breaking, the plug shot out her anus. Grunting in a cute way, her stomach deflates as her diaper expands. A mixture of thick muck and enema fluid oozed out her tailhole. Along with a nearing permanent blush, she felt an unescapable empty felling. In addition to a contradicting full feeling.

"Did little Rita make messies in her diaper like a small baby?" Runt teases, gently squeezing her diaper. Rita whimpers, staring at her bloated diaper. Before she wasn't certain if she could walk, now she knew she'd forced to crawl. Forced to drag this filthy thing around until Runt changed her.

_I can't believe he made me do that. Yet, it feels so…good. _Without realizing it, Rita found herself purring. Runt removes the straps binding her to the table, now moving over to a rocking chair. Rocking his back and forth, she slowly dozes off. In Runt's arms, she felt safe and secure, granted her crotch was bouncing over mush. In the nursery, she felt similar. She'd never have to worry about finding a home. As if reaffirming her belief, Runt kissed her forehead.

"Go back to sleep. We'll, definitely, have more fun later," Runt promises. Shortly after, Rita doses off in her friend's lap with a happy grin. The mismatched duo sat in perfect bliss. Unfortunately, reality wasn't so pleasant to the poor cat. The monitor near the playpen reactivates, Margaret, looking rather pleased.

"Alright onto phase two. Take Rita to Duchess. Fuella will be there as well for a group activity," Margaret orders. Runt nods, staring at its charge with its glossy eyes. Reality sent in, the illusion of Runt's presence, ending. Heaving Rita over its shoulder, Plush-Runt follows his creator's commands.


	3. Fu-Dog

Perhaps among all the captives, Fu Dog had the strangest awakening. The moment he comes too, he immediately felt a nipple in his mouth. Eyes trailing up from a tit the size of his head, the Shar-Pei's eyes are met with a dalmatian's. Her eyes portray an undeniable motheringly vibe. Though he could feel her breastmilk sloshing inside him, Fu's eyes shift from between her and the tit he's suckling from. Almost as if asking for permission to continue or an explanation for what was happening.

"I'd be insulted if you didn't. However, I think you've had enough." Pulling her nipple out his mouth, she tosses him over her shoulder. After tugging her shirt down, she pats his back softly. Fu Dog lets out a small belch, blushing with a slight chuckle.

"Excuse me."

"You're excused." The dalmatian carries Fu Dog over a table. During her short walk, Fu Dog surveys the room. The immediate thing of notice was the myriad of magic markings and talismans decorating the room. He'd seen them before but couldn't remember what they meant. Other than that, it was a standard nursery with bright blue wallpaper.

"Where are we?" Fu Dog asks.

"In my universe. It seems like Margaret needs you for testing purposes. Among other reasons…" Deborah looks away. She drops him onto a changing table, smiling with a diaper floating next to her. As she if read his thoughts, she snaps a paw digit. On cue, a monitor appears with Brian backing away from a mole. No audio is playing; however, it really didn't matter. The visual provided more than enough without it.

_Brian's stepping back from the mole, fear-stricken and probably begging for the mole to get away. The mole tilts their head in confusion. The canine had most likely broken some weird rule and is now being punished. He understood that, the hippo had made it very clear. After a noiseless mad giggle, the mole unsheathes their claws. With unimaginable speed, she hacks away at Brian_'s _body. _

The monitor disappears, Deborah's certain the severity of the situation is made apparent. Fu Dog blinks but nods, nonetheless. Not like he was going to revolt anyway. If whatever Margaret had planned meant he could possibly see that poodle again, it'd be fine. With a little taste of that Fu-Dog charm, he could win her over. The Shar-Pei was certain of that little truth. As Deborah diapers him, they share a cordial smile. Even if he couldn't see Jennifer again, Deborah wouldn't be so bad. Despite her age, she seems nice enough. Also, having tits the size of his head didn't hurt either.

When she finishes, she carries Fu Dog over her hip. They exit the room into a long hallway, moving the left of the door. One the way to the testing room, Fu Dog got a peak of some of the other test subjects here. A female Sheepdog is in a room with a female Golden Retriever and a male German Shepard. They seemed to be having a discussion of some sorts. It seemed to be reaching either the climax, or ending point, as the Sheepdog cries and is comforted by the two canines.

Several rooms later, Fu Dog saw that mole from earlier stitching together a plushie. A plushie that oddly resembled Brian Griffin. All the while she did that, she's rambling something to herself. She drops the unfinished plushie, nose high in the air. Even though the glass is tinted for one-sided viewing, she sees Deborah and Fu-Dog moving pass. Licking her chops, she locks eyes with Fu Dog.

"Puuuupppppyyyy," the mole creepily whispers. Perhaps it was on instinct, but Fu-Dog buries head in Deborah's chest. The dalmatian softly growls at her cohort. The mole retorts with a scowl, yet nonetheless returns to her work. Deborah rubs her charge's back, cooing and whispering sweet, protective, words into his ear.

Mid-sentence, she stops with a smile. If Fu-Dog wasn't blushing, he certainly was now. A slightly erect chub is poking at her side. Continuing to the testing room, Deborah briefly pauses to see a grey cat being dressed up by a plush sheepdog.

"Cats should never be let out of pamps," Deborah mutters. A few doors later and they arrive to see Jennifer leaning against the door. Between the two females there is a grim expression shared. A single tear rolls down Deborah's face, eyes closed whilst she trembles. Of course, she represses her sudden need to cry, opting to instead look at her charge.

"I'm sorry sweetie – I'm supposed to be watching you. Unfortunately, it appears that a certain kitty and her human need my services." Deborah passes her padded pup over to Jennifer. Behind Deborah, a rift opens. She backs away until both she and the rift disappear, leaving just the Poodle and the Shar-Pei. Sighing, Jennifer takes Fu-Dog into the room.

The weird thing was is that there two rooms inside. One had a control panel, the other was just empty space. Going into the second room, Jennifer places Fu-Dog on his feet.

"Sorry about before."

"Water under the bridge. Although next time, don't drug me. A gorgeous thing like you can get me anytime she wants." Fu-Dog gives her a wink. Jennifer lets out an annoyed laugh. Why did _she _have to get stuck with him? Oh well. She's gonna have her fun, regardless. Jennifer scurries back to the room with the control panel, the door slamming shut behind her.

"_Alright, we're about to commence test one: diaper absorption. We're gonna fill that diaper until it leaks._" Jennifer announces over an intercom. A large bucket is deposited into the room, next to the canine. Along with it, a long stick with a paci-gag at the end. Staring at the strange device, he turns to the poodle. Naturally, he'd voice objections except, the paci-gag stick was quickly strapped around his neck. Because of the strange device, his head is forced upward. It took an unquestionable amount of effort to move his head downward.

The bucket is tipped over, probably over two liters worth of water spills onto the floor. A pair of hands lift him onto the puddle. His eyes bulge whilst his thirsty padding soaks up the water. The diaper, which was thinner than ones found at a drug store, thickens and puffs out. It grows thicker and thicker as he's slid across the floor. Every ounce of water absorbed elevates his rear until he's no longer feels his rear touching the floor.

In the span of, at the most, two minutes, all the spilled water had been soaked into his diaper. His broomstick-paci is removed, Fu-Dog looking over the floor. Granted it was clean before, the floor is now is sparkling. Looking down at his diaper, he's a solid five inches off the ground. He heard a small gurgle from his stomach.

"Wow," Fu-Dog mutters. Even he had to acknowledge how surprisingly absorbent this diaper is.

In the control room, Jennifer jots down a few notes before leaning into the microphone, "_Alright so far the first test is a success. We'll get you into a fresh diaper and move onto the next test: diaper filling capacity._"

Another set of mechanical hands come with a diaper, supplies, and a changing mat. In comparison to his previous diaper, it's massive.

"That seems a little excessive, don't ya think?"

"_Perhaps, but it's necessary to see how much it can take. Once we see how much it can handle from a smaller mammal, we're going to test it on something larger._" Jennifer closes her eyes, sighing at a passing thought. If her friend knew what Margaret was up to, this whole thing would get shut down. For now, though, her focus returns to the experiment.

After a smooth change, Fu-Dog's expectantly baffled by the sheer size of his padding. On two feet, he wobbles on two feet until he falls on all fours. He gazes in amazement at near balloon sized diaper around his waist. He yelps when a pair of hands pick him up. He's gently placed and strapped onto a bench with his diaper lowered for access to his rear.

"_If you can't already tell, we're going to give you an enema. In combination with Deborah's breast milk, which we laced with laxatives, it's gonna come out explosive and fast. Once we start, they're no going back. So, if you won't, we can stop this and move onto our next test._" Jennifer announces. She didn't even bother to count before he gave her the expected response.

"Well how about no, sweetheart? I dunno if my body can handle all that." Fu-Dog worries. Whistling innocently, she flips a switch. From an unseen enema bag, a lubed nozzle is thrust into Fu-Dog's unsuspecting tail hole. Cries of foul play and deceit from him are muted swiftly with a pacifier gag.

A sound deadly similar to someone turning on a water hose emits throughout the room. He clenches his cheek in a pitiful attempt to fight the enema fluid. His resistance, pitiful as it may have been, is successful slightly. Fluid still breaches his defenses, albeit at a slower rate. Muffled grunts and cries of discomfort are heard, only to be comforted by a mechanical hand petting him. Considering his situation, Fu-Dog's next choice of action definitely wasn't the smartest.

Eying his observer with as deadly a stare as seriously one could have in his predicament, he flicks her off. From her spot in the control room, Jennifer shakes her head with a devious grin. He would certainly live to regret that decision.

His efforts to ward off the enema might have been passable prior, now impossible. Squirming and wriggling in vain attempt to break free, he only serves to humiliate himself further. To maintain what little dignity, he might've had left, he relaxes, to the best of ability mind you, and lets the fluid have its way with him. Shortly after, he's released from his restraints, his stomach now bloated to the point his restraints would cause more harm than good.

Both nuzzle and pacifier gag are removed, Fu-Dog panting heavily as his diaper is pulled up. He shrieks out a long soundless gasping scream, his eyes twitching. The sounds of grenades exploding nearby could be confused with his exploding rear. His padding swells and balloons to accommodate as much of his dirty muck as possible; sadly, it couldn't contain all of it. Brown liquid oozes out of his padding, down his legs.

With each passing moment his stomach deflates, his diaper inflates. If one listened closely, the sound of fabric stretching could be faintly heard. Fu-Dog's soundless gasps devolve into pained grunts and whimpers before he passes out, body continuing to fill his diaper. What happened next surprised Jennifer, might have even surprised Margaret when they go over the footage.

The diaper, currently bulging to its absolute limit, explodes. The once empty white room now had brown streaks over its walls, floor, and a little dripping from the ceiling. Along with it came a stench that made it hard for Jennifer, whom mind is still in the control room, to breath. At the epicenter of it all, Fu-Dog's gaping hole was still leaking granted to a much lesser extent than it had been before. Jennifer blinks, unable to process what she had just witnessed. She lets out a fast sigh after a quick scan from the machine found Fu-Dog to still alive. Jennifer shudders to think of what the hippo would do to her if Fu-Dog had somehow died.

Unfortunately for him, she doubts he'll ever not need diapers for quite some time if not for the remainder of his life. That tad bit of news would have to wait. Jennifer takes her leave, inputting instructions for Fu-Dog to be carried to a different room for cleaning and to have the current room cleaned.

_Margaret will never know about this_, Jennifer. Upon exiting the room, Deborah had returned with a sour expression. Quivering with fear, the poodle giggles nervously.

"Is our kitty friend and her human okay?"

"For the time being. Oh, and don't think I don't know what you did in there. When we get home, I think you'll learn how to not let your feelings get the better of you."

xxx

Fu-Dog awakes in a tube of warm, soapy, water. Equipped with soaped up sponges and rags, Deborah and Jennifer go to task on cleaning him. They were a bit rough in wipes his butt cheeks, but he didn't mind. If he wasn't so exhausted, he might've enjoyed the two attractive canines giving him a sponge bath.

_If this is heaven, I'll gladly take another enema. _Both females get a slight chuckle out of Fu-Dog's growing erection. If he had the strength for it, out of sheer anger, he'd grab Jennifer by her ears and make her suck him off to completion. It would only be fair. Sadly, a thought to be had another day.

When they finished, they dry him and quickly get him into another diaper. Jennifer is shoed off by Deborah to get something, leaving just the Dalmatian and Shar-Pei.

"I'm sorry for Jenny's actions. Once we're back home, I will make her life a living nightmare for a few days." Deborah said as though it were an equivalent of consequence. Fu-Dog might've voiced an idea or two, had he not fallen passed out due to still being exhausted from the prior events. At this moment, Jennifer returns with a bag. Taking it into her paw, Deborah orders, "Now go home and have Azalea help you resume the position. If I get home and you aren't in it, your punishment will be legendary."

Head lowered in defeat; Jennifer begins her trek home. Deborah's a kind mistress, however, any punishment she dishes out is brutal. She's already in tears at the mere thought of whatever Deborah would do to her.

Once she's out of her sight, Deborah dumbs the content of the bag onto the bathroom table. A pink collar, a dress, a wig complete with a pink bow, and a pair of headphones fall out of the bag. Fu-Dog's current collar is removed, replaced with the pink one with 'Fuella' written on a small pink heart dangling from the collar. Adorning his head is a blonde wig with sausage curls worthy of Shirley Temple herself. Lastly, he's fitted with a purple dress that only covers the upper front of his diaper. She plants a kiss on his forehead, putting the headphones on.

'_Your name is Fuella and you're an adorable little puppy girl. You luv your mommy and twin sister. You luv your diapers. You luv using your diapers and don't want to be potty trained. Whatever mommy says is right. You obey mommy. Good puppy girls obey mommy. Good puppy girls who obey mommy make stickies in their diapers' _is chanted over and over in his ears. As much as she loved it, Deborah couldn't deny her disappointment. Unlike Margaret, Deborah wasn't certain it would stick. Either way, she shrugs. Not like it was her problem or anything.

Carrying her charge out the room, she's met with Plush Runt pushing a dual-seated stroller with Rita in a messy diaper. She fastens Fu-Dog into the other seat, giving him a final kiss on the forehead.

"Sorry we couldn't play more, Fuella. Next time, Aunty Deborah will make sure to have a cutie pie like you all to herself." Deborah promises. She gestures for Plush-Runt to leave, the pair heading off in separate directions. Halfway, she stops to blow a single kiss in Fuella's direction.

_Perhaps it's time I settle down and start a family of my own._ _And I have just the ones in mind. _She pulls a photo from her wallet of a blue and black tabby cats, a liger, Margaret, Jennifer, and a bright yellow dragon.


	4. Brian

_A few days ago…_

Melissa sat in her room, rocking back and forth. The mole muttering the words 'wormy and hexy', 'kitty', and 'robot' over and over. Guards that would occasionally see her give her a pitiful glance. Once upon a time she was intelligent, gifted, and destined for greatness. How could it have all gone so wrong?

Though their usual concern takes a backseat to an approaching vixen. Covered in crimson fur and wearing a dark-red suit, Rogue approaches Melissa's cell. She always visited her friend every Saturday at 3:30 pm. Each time was to restore even a tiny bit of sanity Melissa had left. It was also a failure each time. Today would be different.

This time, Rogue had something she knew would help her.

Peaking into her room, Rogue smiles at the back of Melissa's head. Melissa, having immediately caught onto Rouge's scent, turns to face her.

"Rouge?" She mumbles.

"Yes. I'm here for my usual visit. Except I'm not alone."

"It's been quite some time, Melissa. It's rather unfortunate we meet again under these terms," spoke a blue sphere that hopped onto Rouge's shoulder. Melissa, who honestly didn't care much for Rouge's visits, sharply turns to stare the ball. It pops open into a small figurine/ball hybrid. Its no, his, design was different than how Melissa remembered him but she couldn't deny who was before her.

"Siege?"

"Aquos Warlock Siege at your services." Mage Siege said.

"But how…robot-" Melissa's immediately cut off by Rouge.

"I even brought two special friends for you, I think you'll remember them well." Rouge tosses a brown sphere and cylinder towards Melissa. In her dazed state, she didn't catch them. Once on her bed, they pop open. Just like Siege they also had a different figurine design but she knew who they were.

"Wormy? Hexy?" she asks as she gently takes them into her paws. Though Wormy, the sphere, didn't speak it still nodded to its former partner. After a quick sniff, it was all but confirmed to her. Wormy and Hexy had returned to her. Staring at Rouge with joy and confusion, she asks once more, "How? Robot kill Wormy and Hexy."

"That's what I came to speak to you about. A new contact of mine has revived our partners on two conditions. One: you help a colleague of hers with a project."

"The second?"  
"Oh, you'll love this. We have…"

_Present Day_

Brian Griffin had woken up to find himself on the floor of a random room in the facility. He'd intended to write the entire experience with the hippo a dream or some overly elaborate prank from Peter. Although the mole, Melissa, staring directly at him indicated that it wasn't. This is his first time meeting her, but even he could tell she seemed to be recovering from something.

"Toy."

"Huh?"

"Hippo want toy. I make you toy. Make you toy, keep Wormy and Hexy" Melissa mutters to herself. With the thought of keeping her precious friends for motivation, she slowly advances on Brian. Each step she takes forward, he takes a step back.

"I dunno what you're trying to do, but can you let me go?"

Melissa didn't answer.

"Listen, I've got a kid at home who'd be really sad to find out his dad died."

Melissa stops for a moment to tilt her head. He had a kid? None of the research provided that to be true. For another few seconds, she contemplates her next move. It'd wrong to do what she was told to do to him. Then again, if he did have a kid, a plushie of their father would be great.

Mad laughter echoes throughout the room. Throwing her claws up high, she slices off Brian's left paw. He holds his arm, recoiling and gasping from the pain.

"WHAT THE HELL YOU BITCH?! WHAT THE ACTUAL HELL?!" Brian shouts, covering his arm to slow down the bleeding. Melissa's response is her insane laughter. After all, she was gonna get Wormy and Hexy back. With each hack and slash of Brian's body, she'd be closer to her goal.

He lost both his arms first. Followed by his nose. His legs were next. A final swipe came, his head rolling over the floor. Moving those limbs to the side, she messily inserts a claw into Brian's former upper chest. Periodically, she'd withdraw her claws to lick them clean of his blood. She'd do this until she'd reached his still-beating heart.

She clenches it in her paw, staring at it. Gently placing it on the ground, she gathers up Brian's severed limbs. Taking a gentler approach, she skins Brian's limbs. Each strand of shredded fur is dropped over his heart. With each cut, she could hear the agonizing cries but chose to ignore it.

After all, she'd get her Wormy and Hexy back. Leaving behind a bloody corpse, she carries his skin and heart over to a sewing station. As she sews his back together, her nose picks up a familiar scent.

It was another dog.

"Dog must become toy." Melissa scurries from her spot to the glass window. Though she couldn't see them, she knew it to be Deborah and Fu-Dog. Face cracking into a crooked smile, she says, "Puuuuppppyyyy."

Then she and Deborah share a series of growls, hisses, and barks. In the end, Melissa turns her back to the canines, mumbling to herself. Returning to the table, she continues to sew Brian back together. Whilst she did her part, Melissa could only count on the other one to do their part.

xxx

Brian awoke to in a pale white room. Rubbing his head, he swears to never do drugs again. By the time he'd truly realized his situation, a distorted feminine voice speaks, "So you are a victim too?"

"HUH?!" Brian looks to see _something _lurking closer to him. A black sock puppet wearing a white mask crawls closer and closer to him. Three white stripes adore its arms and legs. Lifting its face, hollow eyes stare at him. Even without eyes, he could feel this _thing _staring into his soul.

"I will give you what I've given many."

"What are you?" Brian rubs his eyes as if to verify if this creature is real. A lengthy, plush, finger reaches out to his mouth. Perhaps it was fear that kept Brian from running away. This was a decision he would always come to regret.

"Don't worry, you won't die." The puppet 's finger touches the right corner of Brian's mouth. He shrieks in agonizing pain, the finger burrowing in and out of his mouth. Drenched in his blood, his screams muffle as his lips tighten. He feebly attempts to undo the stitches; however, it wouldn't budge. The Puppet wouldn't allow a toy to interfere in their work.

He hadn't been given the gift of life yet.

The Puppet's finger continued its mission in stitching together his mouth. Except, Brian was frowning, tears and snot dripping onto its body. The Puppet couldn't allow that. No one wants a sad toy. To rectify that the initial corner stitching of his mouth is forced upwards into a smile. Now it could finish in its mission.

Once its finger finished stitching Brian's mouth in a bleeding smile, it withdraws its finger. Although, the thread of finger that stitch his mouth together slithers down his throat. Drips of blood and vomit ooze through Brian's stitches. In a last-ditch effort, he puts every ounce of strength into ripping off his stitches.

His efforts are successful.

Blood and vomit pour out his muzzle. Fresh air enters his lungs and he takes deep, long, breathes. Though they would be his last. Halfway through another exhale, the bits of thread still lingering around his mouth burrow into his lips. Continuing onward until they reconnect, giving Brian back that forced smile.

He didn't have long to worry about that. The thread that slithered down his throat found its target. The thread latches and squeezes his voice box. Brian clenches his chest, desperately trying, hoping, that he could force the thread to let go. It didn't matter. It was almost over anyway.

Falling over to his paws and knees, _something _was pounding against his spine. The thread, having done part of its job, now sought escape. Each instance of pounding into his spine, the dog would howl in terrible pain. His pathetic spine soon easily broke from the increasing force of the thread, Brian now laying limb on the nonexistent floor.

The thread, now free, loops into a ring. The string cord slowly lowers itself until it lays limp on Brian's back fur. The Puppet lifts Brian's head, those hollow eyes staring back at him. He couldn't tell but, it was very happy with what it had done.

The last thing it said was, "You will make a little girl very happy."

Brian then passes out, unable to bear the tremendous pain he's experienced.

xxx

For a while, it was nothing but darkness. Brian hadn't realized what had happened to him yet. He would soon.

Brian tried to lift his limbs, move his head, and even wiggle his toes. None of his limbs responded to his commands. On the other hand, he could feel the weight of a dozen or two worth of _something _over his body. A muffled voice soon clarifies what was over top of him.

"Pick a plushie?" The lid of the toy chest opens, light penetrating the darkness around. Overtop of Brian was just that, plushies. Some of copyrighted characters, some generic animals like cats, dogs, pigs, etc. Peeking into the chest was a cat in a yellow bonnet, her paw searching for something in the chest.

Their eyes eventually lock, and Brian hopes that she picks him. If he could chuckle, he would. He recognized her as that cat from earlier. Besides her bonnet, she wore an identical yellow dress with white ruffles. She had…was that a diaper? Yup, it was a diaper. One that looks it left her with an awkward waddle.

_Take a picture, it'll last longer._ Brian thought as she examines him. Upon finding the string cord, Rita pulls on it. The thread that'd attached itself to his voice box squeezes it again, forcing Brian to speak.

This was his chance. Somewhere in the deep corner of his mind, he wonders if this cat in a diaper could save him. Worth a shot.

"SOMEBODY SAVE ME-" Brian shouts, stopping midsentence. The thread around his voice box knew what he'd intended to say. It couldn't allow that. The dog was meant to be a good toy. A faint rainbow miasma appears around it, altering Brian's sentence. "from being lonely. What's your name, little girl?"

Naturally, the color drains from her face. In fear, she drops him back into the chest. If Brian could move, he'd flick her off. As fast she'd dropped him, Rita picks him up. She cradles him close to her chest, his sole protector until they could escape.

She yelps as a plush, larger than the cat, carries herin its arms. Plush-Runt takes them over to a tea party set. There were four chairs, one occupied by a plush bear slightly shorter than Plush-Runt. The remaining three, Rita and Brian quickly realized, are meant for them.

_Are they expecting us to have a tea party?_ They thought in unison. Plush-Runt takes Brian from his charge to drop into a chair, then taking a seat on his own. He places her next to him with one paw, the other holding the teapot. Rita blinks, eyes shifting between the pot and Plush-Runt.

"Wait, I'm supposed to host this?"

Plush-Runt nods.

"I dunno how to say this but…" Rita pauses. Mechanical hands loom over her head. As if waiting for a dissenting opinion. Her eyes now lay on Brian. To her knowledge, this was probably the punishment for disobedience. Considering her circumstances, she'd rather play host for a bit then risk being stuck as a baby kitten plush.

After all, no one would ever know about this right?

"I dunno what to say but…I'd LOVE to have a tea party!" Rita grabs the teapot with glee unknown to her character. Humming happily to herself, she pours tea in each of the cups for her guests. She takes her seat, offering a plate of crumpets to her guests.

"How's everyone?" Plush-Runt pulls the string on Brian's back, forcing him to speak.

"Well, I'm doing swell little girl! How about you?"

"Absolutely wonderful, thanks for asking," Rita replies. She responds to the bear the same way, pretending it was able to talk. Plush-Runt lifts his teacup to his muzzle, confusing Brian and Rita at the sound sipping with a pinkie up. Holding it high as possible to prove fanciness.

It more or less went about this way. Rita continued to play host to the best of her abilities. Brian, against his best efforts, would be forced into sounding like a good toy. Soon there was a loud preschool bell, signaling the end of teatime.

Rita hops to her feet, curtsying for her 'guests', "Thank you for your time and I hope we can do this again."

A set of arms come to receive the bear, leaving the two plush dogs and the padded cat. Again, if Brian could have control over his limbs he'd blink. Plush-Runt's seams come undone, sprinkling a bright blue powder over Rita. She covers her mouth and nose, blocking the powder.

She yelps from a hand yanking on her tail, now catching quite a bit of powder. She didn't outright go to sleep. Dozing off, Plush-Runt slips a bottle of milk into her mouth. Whether Rita was aware of it or not, she's casually suckling away on her bottle. She's tugged into a crib, happily sucking on her bottle with one paw, Brian close to her chest in the other.

_Someone fucking kill me._ Between his inability to act or speak freely and Rita's suckling, Brian would gleefully accept death. At this moment, he realizes that he had a way out a long time ago. If he'd simply used a cutaway gag to get home, he wouldn't be in this situation.

Oh well, too late now.

Randomly, Plush-Runt, who had sat at the base of the crib, inactive, reactivates. Looming over Rita, he withdrew her empty bottle then proceeds to lightly shock her. Afterward, he leaves the room with Brian. Strolling past the rooms, Brian gets a brief look at one of his fellow test subjects. Or at least, he thought was a test subject.

Walking past both plushies is a female Golden Retriever, a male German Shepard, and a female sheepdog in a 50s style housewife dress. The Golden Retriever and German Shepard wave to Plush-Runt, smiling at the plush in his arms. The Sheepdog, also waves to Plush-Runt, somewhat failing to hide her fear of Brian's situation.  
Past them, they arrive at their room of destination. Inside there's not much. The only thing that stands out is an opened box. Next to it, a plastic cutout about Brian's size. If he hadn't wanted to move again, he definitely wished he could now. Being fully aware he couldn't, Brian struggles and squirms in Plush-Runt's grip.

_Just give up. You are just a toy. We are all just toys. _

Plush-Runt presses Brian's limbs into the plastic cutout. He slides the plastic cutout into the box then drops it down a nearby chute.

Brian, completely baffled, lands in the display window of a toy store. The baffling part wasn't the toy store. It also wasn't the fact that where they're being held captive at is connected to this store. It's that he saw various furs walking past the store, some taking note. A few cubs, pups, and kits go by the store with their parents, each disappointed their parents wouldn't buy the Brian plushie.

All the while, Brian wondering whether he'd be freed from this fate.

"You will make a little girl very happy."The puppet's voice repeats through Brian's head. Alongside the puppet's repeating voice, the thread around his voice box pulsates a bright pink. Something, somewhere, in his mind cracks with each pulse.

"You will make a little girl very happy."

Another crack.

"You will make a little girl very happy."

Another crack, his mind wonders briefly.

"You will make a little girl very happy."

Another crack. That little girl must have been Rita.

"You will make a little girl very happy."

As a plushie, it was his duty to make sure his little girl was very happy. Exactly how Rupert was for Stewie. Just as he will now do for Rita.

"You will make a little girl very happy."

A part of Brian shatters and his vision becomes dark.

xxx

Light returned to Brian, who's patiently waiting for his little girl. More cubs, kits, and pups had come by, but no parent was willing to buy him. A sad fate for a toy. At least until…

"Auntie Rita and Uncle Gareth, can I have that?" A familiar voice asks. The Golden Retriever and German Shepard from earlier, along with Rita and a cute little puppy girl stop in front of the store. Rita, the Golden Retriever, glances at Brian then the price tag. No wonder no one had brought it prior, no parent would a grand on a single plushie.

"Eh…." The Golden Retriever trails.

"If 'e don' ge' it we'll never 'ear t'e end of it," Gareth said. Rita the Golden Retriever sighs. That also met they'd have to buy one for Fuella. It wouldn't be fair otherwise.

"Alright fine. Let's go and get you that toy. Gareth, take Fuella and find her a toy too." She orders. Gareth, nodding, leans down to unbuckle Fuella from the stroller.

"Alrig't princess, et's find ya a nice dragon plus'ie to play wi'h." Gareth carries a giggling Fuella into the store. Both Ritas join, the feline Rita staring at the Brian plushie. She didn't know why she wanted it. She just knew he'd be better off in her care than anywhere. Something that Brian knew too.

He was going to make his little girl very happy.


End file.
